ing fears of death. He had not, as the phrase goes, settled his
affairs, and Mr. Carlyle was telegraphed for in haste, to make his will,
and for other private matters. A very simple occurrence it appeared to
Mr. Carlyle, this journey, and yet it was destined to lead to events
that would end only with his own life.

Mr. Carlyle entered, unaffected and gentlemanly as ever, with his noble
form, his attractive face, and his drooping eyelids. She advanced to
meet him, holding out her hand, her countenance betraying her pleasure.

"This is indeed unexpected," she exclaimed. "How very pleased I am to
see you."

"Business brought me yesterday to Castle Marling. I could not leave it
again without calling on you. I hear that Lord Mount Severn is absent."

"He is in France," she rejoined. "I said we should be sure to meet
again; do you remember, Mr. Carlyle? You----"

Isabel suddenly stopped; for with the word "remember," she also
remembered something--the hundred pound note--and what she was saying
faltered on her tongue. Confused, indeed, grew she: for, alas! she had
changed and partly spent it. _How_ was it possible to ask Lady Mount
Severn for money? And the earl was nearly always away. Mr. Carlyle saw
her embarrassment, though he may not have detected its cause.

"What a fine boy!" exclaimed he, looking at the child.

"It is Lord Vane," said Isabel.

"A truthful, earnest spire, I am sure," he continued, gazing at his open
countenance. "How old are you, my little man?"

"I am six, sir; and my brother was four."

Isabel bent over the child--an excuse to cover her perplexity. "You do
not know this gentleman, William. It is Mr. Carlyle, and he has been
very kind to me."

The little lord had turned his thoughtful eyes on Mr. Carlyle,
apparently studying his countenance. "I shall like you, sir, if you are
kind to Isabel. Are you kind to her?"

"Very, very kind," murmured Lady Isabel, leaving William, and turning to
Mr. Carlyle, but not looking at him. "I don't know what to say; I ought
to thank you. I did not intend to use the--to use it; but I--I--"

"Hush!" he interrupted, laughing at her confusion. "I do not know what
you are talking of. I have a great misfortune to break to you, Lady
Isabel."

She lifted her eyes and her glowing cheeks, somewhat aroused from her
own thoughts.

"Two of your fish are dead. The gold ones."

"Are they?"

"I believe it was the frost killed them; I don't know what else it could